


Unforeseen

by AnotherWorld3111



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blind Castiel (Supernatural), College | University Student Dean Winchester, Fluff, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Slash, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Smart Dean Winchester, Supportive Bobby Singer, Supportive Sam Winchester, dean is bi, its actually a really fluffy fic, now that the angsty tags are out of the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Going to college, Dean didn’t think it was in his cards. But when he’s got a gorgeous teacher during his last year, maybe Dean’s got a lucky hand after all.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	Unforeseen

**Author's Note:**

> Eugh sorry for the sucky summary but it is.. 5? Am and I haven’t slept all night I’m supposed to be sleeping right now but I saw this post and I had to make it a fic so... here we are
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CAX0MW2H-Ve/?igshid=t86yyk1pbq2c
> 
> Unedited, unbetaed, you know how it goes

Dean was pretty good with his classes. Truly speaking, he never thought he’d be returning to education. A GED and a guaranteed job at Bobby’s was all fine with Dean, but then Sam dropped by, and then he conspired with Bobby, and the next thing Dean knew, he’d been enrolled in the local community college. 

As far as things went, he was sure he’d be dropping out halfway through the first semester. He did it once in high school already, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he did it again.

Except... he actually enjoyed his classes. Suddenly, his knowledge and expertise with cars had more value, and as much as he hated to admit, having a degree in what Dean was already passionate about? Easy peasy. 

So the years went by, and suddenly the tables were reversed as Dean was the one to freak out over shit like midterms and finals, while Sam — he was too kind to tease Dean how he would’ve if he’d been in Sam’s place, but he reserved the right for a few ‘told-you-so’s’ that Dean couldn’t begrudge him — sympathetically lent a willing ear. Bobby, to Dean’s surprise, was even willing to help Dean prepare for his tests and quizzes. And with a bachelor’s degree finally in hand... Dean realized, this wasn’t too bad after all. And maybe, maybe it wasn’t studying that was a problem, maybe it was the confines and restrictions of  school , because suddenly, Dean could get why his little brother enjoyed studying so much. The thirst for education that he never imagined himself having, was suddenly there, and before he knew it, he was enrolling again, this time for a master’s.

The classes were the same as the workload, there wasn’t anything different about that, except the material was new and brought life to Dean in a way that working with cars did. He was definitely geared up to get working on his diploma... and then he signed up for a class with one Castiel Novak. 

Professor Novak, teaching a crucial course on electricity interacting with the environment, who was to be Dean’s teacher for the rest of his final year. Who was smoking hot, knowledgeable and oozing intelligence that got Dean’s gears moving in a way he hadn’t realized would do _things_ to him before, and undeniably blind, not that the last bit really mattered.

If anything, Dean counted it a small blessing in the least offensive way possible — it was hard enough, shifting uncomfortably amid a bunch of other students who had no problem with Mr. Sexy-hair-legs-voice — fuck, sexy _everything_. He didn’t need to gain incessant attention from his professor.

Although, maybe he wouldn’t have minded it as much...

Yeah... no. Dean was pretty much screwed, and not in the way he thought he’d ever be with college.

And he thought he could hold it out, too. Sure, constant exposure was a pain in his ass, and not in the fun way, in dealing with his crush. But the goddamn professor was kind, considerate, willing to help out students, unhindered by his blindness and holy hell was Dean left speechless anytime the professor turned those shockingly blue eyes on him. Yeah, professor Novak was left confused more than once when Dean only gaped helplessly, mouth working like a damned fish. Why he raised his hand in class, he had no idea. It was a toss up between genuinely knowing the answer and wanting to contribute, and feeling masochistic. 

But he survived, either through sheer stubbornness and persistence, or maybe because there was no way he was not gonna attend class, even more so when the hot piece of ass at the front was an added bonus. Although after months of pining—

“I’m not pining!”

“Dean, shut up. You haven’t stopped talking about your professor since the day you laid eyes on him. Huh. Is that sensitive?”

Eileen beat Dean at smacking Sam first at that, but her swat was annoyingly too light as belied by her fond expression, in comparison to the muscle Dean would’ve put more of into if he’d gotten to it first.

—and weeks of stalking—

“Oh, hell no. There was no stalking involved.”

“You practically got the guy’s biography from a classmate!”

“One, Charlie is a friend, and b, I only asked her if she knew if he was single! It’s not my fault I didn’t know she’d come up with more than that!”

“Yeah. You’ve totally been stalking the poor dude.”

—and endless days of Dean wondering what he ever did to deserve a little bitch for a brother,

“Oh, fuck off. You love me, jerk.”

“I doubt it. Are you gonna help me with my paper or not, bitch?”

“Totally not trying to impress him, riiight.”

“Sonova— Sammy, shut your cakehole!”

Dean came to a decision. In one week, he’d be done with finals, and he was gonna ask Professor Novak, Castiel —  Cas — out. Sammy, and surprisingly, Charlie had nothing to do with it, of course.

(“If you don’t ask him out before the month ends, Winchester, I’m emailing the pictures of you from wrestling club to the Prof.”

“What the— he can’t even  see , Charlie!”

“So maybe he’ll ask someone to describe it, and then he won’t be the only one to see you in a thong.”

“I-you- it’s not a fucking thong !”)

Yup. Dean was gonna ask Cas out, right after his last exam.

oOo

Dean was gonna miss his last exam, and for the first time in his life, he was gonna go crazy about it. Not for the first time in his life, however, was that it wasn’t actually his fault. Nah, that one went to John Winchester, aka, deadbeat dad of the century, guaranteed to show up to make Dean’s life a living hell.

“Dad, you’re not welcome here.” Currently, the clock was present in the background of Dean’s mind, ticking the seconds merrily away from the wall adjacent to them. In front of him, stood John, undoubtedly drunk, and looking at Dean with disdain. Forcing the confidence he wasn’t really feeling into his stance, Dean straightened, crossing his arms. “You need to leave. Before Bobby sees you.”

John snorted, slumping against the doorway of Bobby’s shop. “What’s he gonna do, call the cops?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Dude, that would be the least of both our worries. You forget his promise, ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t, and I bet you he didn’t either.” Bobby Singer was a man of his word, after all, which was more than Dean could say about John these days. And really, John might’ve come a long way from the good man he was once... long ago, and seeing him again brought back memories Dean would’ve been perfectly content not remembering, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see his dad’s ass actually get torn a new one. Literally, considering the exact wordings of Bobby’s promise.

“Friggin’ wussy. Figures he’d take a pansy piece of shit like you in.”

Dean stiffened. “Dad,” his voice dropped lower, and flashbacks of years of abuse pushed away all thoughts of the brighter future he’d been looking forward to away from his mind. “I’m serious. Get out.”

Long story short, John didn’t leave, needless to say. Unfortunately — Dean still wasn’t sure for who — shots were fired, and by the time the drama died down, cops properly notified (thank you Bobby and your gross love with the sheriff of the local police department), trespassers escorted off the property, furnitures put back in places as best as possible, and one little brother Dean was forced to update, the cheery little clock happily informed Dean that he’d missed his last exam.

“Son of a bitch.” Charlie better not have sent Professor Novak the emails just because he was absent, because lack of presence did not equal chickening out, thank you very much.

oOo

Bouncing on his heels, Dean anxiously checked his watch. It was a minute to when Cas allowed him to come in and retake the exam, and while the door was open, the lights were still off. Waiting outside the classroom, Dean fidgeted, uncertain. He was pretty sure... like, really pretty sure this was the time... and date Cas told him to come at, but the man himself was nowhere in sight.

Heh. Dean really needed to get a grip with what he actually said before asking Cas out.

Anyway. Maybe the man was running late or something? Unless he forgot, in which case—

The subtle sound of shifting papers drew Dean short, and he cautiously peeked into the classroom.

Oh. There he was. 

Seated at his desk, Cas was glaring down at a book, except he wasn’t really, because his fingers were trailing along the pages. Braille, most likely.

Dean cleated his throat, making the professor jump. “Professor Novak?”

Sitting upright with alarming alacrity, Cas’s head spun around, eyes pinning onto Dean with eerie accuracy and creepy intensity. “Ah, Dean. Come on in, you’re just on time.”

Dubiously, he glanced around Cas’s desk as he drew close. In the end, he chose not to comment — maybe, if he was lucky, maybe one day, Dean would ask Cas how he was so good. How he was so graceful and confident with his moves, how he was so knowing of his surroundings... but how he also could never seem to get his hair to behave, not that Dean was complaining, or apparently managed to miss the glaringly obvious references that seemed to fly right over Cas’s head when he knew so much random trivia on  bees out of all things. Ideally, the day he asked would also be the day he got to educate Cas in return, on pop culture. Preferably on the same couch. In pajamas. With Dean’s head on Cas’s lap... or maybe the other way around. He really wouldn’t mind getting his hand in aforementioned hair.

Setting his book down, Cas handed Dean a packet, conveniently right beside him. “Good luck, and remember to keep your phone turned off. I might not be able to see, but I can definitely differentiate between the sounds of pencil against paper and your thumb against a screen.” Despite his regular reminder, there was a kind grin on Cas’s face that made it all too easy for Dean to imagine certain select few words in a very different context... which was definitely inappropriate as opposed to, say, nervousness over his last exam that he really needed to ace. And contrary to whatever Sam might say, it wasn’t just because Dean was trying to impress the professor with his stellar grades.

Blushing, Dean accepted the papers, managing to mumble a thanks before turning to sit down. The lights were still off, but Dean didn’t think too much on it. It was a sunny day, and there were more than enough windows for him to sit right next to, so headed straight to the closest one, Dean settled down. 

Despite the relative easiness of the exam, it was still long, and well into an hour and one side of his scantron sheet later, Dean was only halfway done. Which was when something clattered at the front of the room.

“Wait, you can _see_!” Sounding agonized and apologetic, Dean’s focus was ripped away from his exams at his professor’s voice. Eyes automatically drawing up, he watched in bemused confusion as Cas started to rise with a look of alarm on his face.As soon as he was away from his desk, Dean held a fist to his mouth, stifling a shocked burst of laughter as Cas practically dove to the light switch, smacking unseeingly — literally — at the lights until Dean was forced to squint at the abrupt brightness when Cas successfully found the light switch.

“I am so sorry, Dean,” Cas said, looking genuinely remorseful as he walked back to his desk, but didn’t sit down yet. “I totally forgot — I hope you didn’t have to strain yourself or anything—“ for the first time in his life, Dean witnessed Professor Novak stumbling over his words, and it wasn’t helping his case.

“It’s okay,” Dean said, although he knew Cas could hear his grin. “It’s bright enough out, and I’ve been able to see fine so far.”

“Regardless,” Cas sighed. “I understand if you take a little longer than normal. You can ensure that you haven’t misread any of the questions or answers.”

There was no way Dean was gonna say no to that, so with a quick response of gratitude, Dean ducked his head back down to resume his exam, still smiling.

He hadn’t been lying, either. The lack of lights in the classroom hadn’t been a bother, because finishing the exam wasn’t exactly a quicker affair than the first half — which he still went over anyway, gratified to see that it looked the same as it did the first time he’d gone over it.

Carefully gathering his papers and backpack, Dean ambled to the front, handing Cas the papers. When Cas didn’t hear him move away, however, he cocked his head, looking in Dean’s direction with a frown. “Is everything alright?”

Fingers twisting in the strap of his backpack, Dean nodded, and promptly proceeded to mentally smack himself. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, now that I’m done with my classes and everything, technically, I’m not your student anymore, right?”

Cas’s frown grew deeper in thought. “Technically, I have to actually finish grading your paper first. But if there’s any problems, either with the class or outside of it, that you wish to vent to me about, I’ll be happy to listen,” Cas said kindly.

Dean swallowed. “Uh, no. I mean. Yes. No, wait — ugh.” Palming his face, Dean fought against the rising heat creeping at the back of his neck. “No, the class was fine,” he tried again. “Outside of it, actually, yeah. That’s kinda what I wanted to ask you about... can we?”

Cas blinked, uncomprehending. “Can we... what?”

Shuffling on his feet, Dean tugged at his backpack’s strap. “Can we, maybe, grab a coffee, and talk? About myself, you, anything, doesn’t have to be about class.”

For a second, Cas was silent, and Dean was sure he was gonna pass out from mortification before Cas slowly spoke. “Mr. Winchester... are you asking me out on a date?” Fuck, Cas hadn’t called them by their last names after the first day of class, and combined with his tone, Dean was almost tempted to back out, yell psyche, clear up the air and pretend like that wasn’t what he was talking about at all.

Almost. Unfortunately, a more humiliating picture of Dean wrestling, namely, one that looked like he was teabagging someone in the wrong angle, came to mind, along with Charlie donning a devilish smirk. “I-yes. Yeah.”

“That would be very inappropriate, Mr. Winchester,” Cas continued to say slowly, and yeah. Dean was gonna take the passing out option now. At least he could tell Charlie he tried, right? “As I mentioned, I still need to finish grading your papers,” Cas was saying. “Until then, I remain your teacher and therefore have a position of power over you that could be seen as abusing my authority.”

Dean blinked. And then blinked again. “Is... is that a yes, then?” He asked, daring to let his grin slip onto his face and into his voice.

Cas continued to look calm and unfazed, although there was a twinkle in those deep, blue eyes. “You should email me your phone number,” he said, apropos to nothing. “In case I might not have access to my computer later tonight, I would hate to have to keep you in suspense over your grades.”

Dean’s grin grew wide enough to make his cheeks hurt. “I-hell yeah, of course, Cas.” He was already reaching into his pocket for his phone, but the entire time, he kept his gaze on Cas’s eyes, losing himself in the depths of the oceanic swirls he knew he could spend the rest of his life happily drowning 

**Author's Note:**

> No I do not plan on continuing this but lmk what you think otherwise(?)!


End file.
